


Nothing Holding Me Back

by Celtics534



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Muggle, F/M, Rockstar AU, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:26:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29123391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celtics534/pseuds/Celtics534
Summary: Never in any of his wildest fantasies had Harry thought he’d actually meet his famous rockstar crush, Ginny Weasley. But there he was, traveling with her to go explore Paris… the city of love. He just had to pray he wouldn’t do or say something stupid.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 6
Kudos: 52





	Nothing Holding Me Back

**Author's Note:**

> Someone on Tumblr was amazing to send me this cool little prompt, “Muggle Rockstar AU. Ginny is the biggest name in the music industry, and Harry is her biggest fan. A chance meeting between the two of them at a pub- then I'll let you steer the boat :)” I adored this angle and had so much fun working on this! I hope you like it! The title is based on the song by Shawn Mendes. Also I may have already come up with a squeal idea for this… so :) 

He would recognize her face anywhere, seeing as his eyes hadn’t drifted from her during that concert.  _ Her concert _ . And the fact that she was there, in his local, pub was mind-boggling. Because she was Ginny  _ Fucking  _ Weasley, one of the biggest names on today’s current top charts. Ginny Weasley who had three gold records and two Grammys. Ginny Weasley the woman who had drifted into many of his dreams. And now she’d drifted into the same building as him. 

From his post by the bar, Harry had the perfect vantage point to watch her (but not in a creepy way). She had taken refuge at a corner table, a bottle being nursed in her hands. As he studied her, Harry noticed the deep lines wrinkled her forehead and the way her eyes stayed downcast. She was lost in her own mind and if Harry had to guess she was sad about something. 

Normally, Harry did everything in his power to keep away from sad women. He wasn't good with tears and sadness tended to lead to tears. But something about Ginny compelled him to try and comfort her. He wanted to make her happy. 

Maybe it was the four beers he'd drunk in the last hour, or maybe it was the magnetic pull he felt towards her, but Harry was suddenly on his feet and halfway to her table. He had no plan, no idea of what to say, but that didn’t seem to matter to his sentient feet. 

She looked up when he stopped at the corner of her table. Big brown eyes met his green ones in a confused glare. Harry’s hand lifted to the back of his neck, which had already started to sweat. 

“Can I help you?” Her tone was dismissive at best, making the impetuous bravery that had taken him across the floor disappear. 

“I’m sorry. I — I thought — You seemed — I’m sorry.” Harry knew he sounded more foolish with every word, but his mouth just couldn’t seem to stop spewing insignificant garbage. “I’ll just.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Yeah, I’m sorry for bothering —”

Weasley cut off his rambling. “No! No! I’m sorry.” She forced a grim smile on her lips. “I’ve had a rough week, but that doesn’t mean I should take it out on you.”

Harry ran a hand through his hair. He could feel the heat on his cheeks. “No worries. I’ll just let you —”

“Would you like to join me?” She gestured to the empty chair across from her. “I won’t be the best company, but being alone doesn’t sound too great either.” 

Harry’s mind went completely blank. If she’d asked his name at that moment he wouldn’t have had a clue. Ginny Weasley had invited him to sit down. It was like a dream… well, a lot of his dreams did start that way, before escalating to something much less...  _ pure _ ... 

Slowly he slid into the chair. “I am sorry if I upset you by coming over.” 

Weasley shrugged before reaching for her bottle. She began to peel the label, the ripped bits falling to the table in a mixture of paper and condensation. “It wasn’t you that upset me. I was in a poor mood before coming here.”

“Oh, is there anything… I mean to ask… Can I ask —” Harry cut himself off by taking a deep breath. He sounded like a stuttering and stammering fool. But for some reason, a small smile spread across Weasley’s lips. 

“You can ask me why I’m having a poor week if you want.” She’d stopped the destruction of her bottle’s label and had turned the focus onto him. 

Harry couldn’t think past how gorgeous her eyes were. There were millions of people in the world with brown eyes, but Harry swore none of them were like Ginny Weasley’s. It was like looking into melted dark chocolate. He mentally shook himself. “I — um — yeah, I guess that’s what I was asking.” 

Weasley lifted her drink to her lips, taking a long drag. “Normally I don’t like talking about it, but I don’t know.” She studied him, her eyebrows quirking together in an adorable line. “You seem like one of those rare good guys.” After another sip from her bottle, she sighed keeping her eyes on the table. “It’s the fifth anniversary of my brother’s death, and I don’t really know what to do with myself.”

“I understand.” 

That surprised Ginny. Her head jerked up as she met his gaze. Grief was something Harry understood well, and something he hated was when someone said they were sorry. Their apology had no place in grief. So he never said he was sorry when someone lost a loved one, rather he would express how he understood the pain they were going through. 

“You — understand?” Ginny blinked rapidly in succession as if trying to clear her vision. “That’s not what I expected you to say.” 

Harry shrugged. “I lost my parents when I was one and my godfather when I was fifteen,  _ sorry _ doesn’t make the pain go away.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, you do understand.” She was now studying him as if she’d never seen a man with glasses before. “You never told me your name.”

“Oh!” He almost slapped his forehead. “I’m Harry. Harry Potter” He stuck his hand out as if it were a business meeting. Sometimes he made himself cringe… 

But Ginny didn’t seem to mind his awkward behavior. She took his offering and shook with a strong grip. “I’m Ginny.”

“I know.”  _ Fuck, Potter _ ! Harry dropped her hand in order to pinch his own thigh. He hadn’t meant to say that. “I mean — I know — “ 

Ginny laughed. “Ah, you listen to my music?”

“More than I would like to admit.” 

She laughed again. “Well, I’m always happy to meet a fan, though most don’t look like you”

Harry could feel the heat spreading from his neck to his cheeks. “Oh?”

The grin that curled Ginny’s lips could only be described as mischievous or impish. “Yeah, I mean, typically it’s teenagers and young women who come up to me. But I’m delighted to meet a handsome fan such as yourself.” 

Harry couldn’t hold back his snort. “Thanks, I think.”

Ginny reached across the table to pat his hand. “Just telling it how it is, luv.” She leaned back in her chair, her melancholy attitude shifted to something much more cheerful. “So what brings you to this fine establishment tonight, Harry?”

“Oh, my mate from work wanted some company.”

“Did you ditch him for me?” Ginny wagged a finger at him. “That’s not very  _ mately  _ of you.” 

Harry shooks his head, gesturing to the bar where his co-worker had started snogging a random woman. “Actually he ditched me first. I was just about to leave when… when I saw you.”

Ginny blinked at him. “Really?” A small gentle smile formed on her lips. “And was that just because I’m your favorite singer?”

“Who said you were my favorite?” Harry quirked a brow at her, a smile tugging at the corner of his own lips. 

“A girl can just tell.” She winked at him. “Or maybe I’m just hopefully that’s true.” 

“I mean, I may or may not know every word to  _ Solemnly Swear,  _ so you decide.” 

Ginny laughed. “You know, most people think that song is for a boyfriend, but actually I wrote it for my brother. We used to get into a load of trouble. Me and the twins.”

“The twins?”

“Oh, Fred and George. They are my fourth and fifth in my family, and the only set of twins.”

Harry’s jaw dropped. “Fourth and fifth?! How many siblings do you have?”

“Six.” Ginny drained the last of her drink. “All boys too, except me…. obviously.”

Harry let out a low whistle. “Wow! That’s a lot of kids.”

Ginny snorted. “My mum likes to say Dad couldn’t keep his hands off her, but I think it was really the other way around.” She smiled. “Either way isn’t that what we’re all looking for, someone who can’t keep their hands off us.”

The idea of letting his hands roam over Ginny’s body was extremely appealing to Harry, but he wasn’t ready to share that fantasy with her. “My godfather said my parents were like that too. He said they were always together and touching. It got to the point where he just combined their names so.”

“And what was their  _ ship  _ name.”

Harry laughed. “Jily. James and Lily.”

Ginny joined in his laughter “Oh that’s good! Your godfather was clever.” 

“Trust me, I know. He told me enough times that I’d never doubt it.” 

The night seemed to fly by as they sat in the corner of the slowly emptying bar. They’re conversation flowed from one thing to the next. First it had been annoying pet names couples have for each other, then they compared their worst first dates, and who could forget the debate on the best British Bake Off champion of all time. Before Harry realized it the bar was closing for the night. He’d only intended to be out until about ten before heading home to fall asleep with the Arsenal game recap playing on the telly. Now here he was, at three in the morning, walking in the brisk spring night with performing artist Ginny Weasley. Life was odd sometimes.

They walked down the well lit London street, their conversation having drifted to the best place they’d travelled too. 

“The history alone made Pompeii amazing, but the surrounding area is just simply beautiful,” Harry said. “Barcelona had incredible art and architecture, but I’m a history nerd at heart.” 

They paused as they waited for the pedestrian crossing to clear. Ginny swung around a light post laughing like a child. “I always wanted to go to Spain. Tenerife looks so peaceful.” 

Harry’s swore he could feel his heart beating in his chest as he watched her. She was beautiful, not just on the outside, but the way she just extruded this sanguine energy that made his stomach flutter with butterflies. He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. “Yeah, I’ve been and it is gorgeous.”

“You know,” Ginny stopped spinning, moving to be beside him as they crossed the street. They stood so close that Harry could feel his fingers brush along the back of her hand with every other step. “For as much as I travel, I never really get to  _ visit  _ places.” 

“What do you mean?”

“Well, typically I go from venue to venue.” She stepped up onto the pavement, Harry nearly tripped because his eyes were focused on her. “I never get to see the sights or walk along some of the famous roads.” 

Suddenly she stopped, her hand grabbing his wrist to prevent him from walking by her. “Harry, what are you doing tomorrow… well later today?”

“Er…” Harry went through his mental calendar. It was Thursday and his first day off in three weeks (he’d just solved the trafficking case that had been plaguing him for months so his boss gave him three days off). All he intended to do was go to the shops to pick up the essentials and laze about his flat… but he wasn’t going to tell Ginny Weasley that. “Nothing. Why?”

She was beaming at him, like a kid in a candy shop. “Let’s go to Paris!”

All Harry could do was stare, his mind unable to understand her words. “Go to… Paris?” 

Ginny wasn’t fazed by his confusion. “Yeah! Paris! We can be there in like seven hours, which”—she turned his wrist to look at his wristwatch— “would get us there just a little before noon.” Her eyes met his, nearly pleading. “We could spend the day walking around the Louvre, check out Place de la Bastille, or walk down the Champs-Élysées. Then we could see the Eiffel Tower when it’s lit!” She took both his hands in hers. “Come, Harry!”

As Harry looked into her imploring eyes, he knew no wasn’t an option. She was just too… he couldn’t deny her something that brought her so much excitement. “How are we going to get there?”

Her mouth fell open in elated surprise. “Really?” 

He shrugged. “I mean, I’ve never seen the Eiffel Tower at night so I figure why not?” 

Ginny let out a whooping laugh that made Harry’s heart soar. He would say yes to anything that made her laugh like that. “I knew you were the good sort, Harry!” She pulled out her phone, her fingers rapidly moving across the screen as she typed. After about ten seconds she looked up from the screen, her smile as wide as the Amazon. “Our car should be here in about ten minutes.”

Harry blinked in surprise. “Our car?”

She shook her head, that smile still firmly in place. “Let’s just say traveling with a famous pop star has a few perks.” 

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Harry had traveled by ferry a few times (typically to Ireland and back), but he’d never had the entire boat to himself. Ginny’s call had gotten them a car (which had been driven by her private chauffeur), who took them to a private ferry that was run by one of her old grade school friend’s who had been more than happy to do a favor for his old friend. 

The English Channel slapped against the hull of the boat, making a satisfyingly soothing sound. The sun was rising in the east casting a picturesque scene in front of him. He was so focused on the view that Harry didn’t even notice Ginny joining him until she bumped his hip with hers. 

He looked at her, but her attention was on the horizon. 

“Beautiful, right?” She sounded so enamored it made Harry smile. With the position of the rising sun and where she was standing, it cast Ginny in this golden light that made her head look as if it were on fire, but Harry thought he’d never seen anything more beautiful than her silhouette standing beside him. 

“Yeah, beautiful.” 

Suddenly she turned her attention to him, her excitement nearly palpable. She held out her hand. “Come with me!”

Harry only hesitated a fraction of a second. He took her hand in his, letting her drag him towards the stern of the ship. “Is this how you lead me somewhere private to kill me?”

Her laugh sent a wild parade of butterflies fluttering through his stomach. “Please, I have enough money to hire someone to do that for me. No, I wanna get a better view!” She pointed to the roof of the little captain’s hut. 

“Are we allowed up there?” 

“Don’t be such a narc, Harry.” 

He snorted. “That’s a new nickname for me.” 

She glanced over her shoulder, the smile curling her lips making more wings flapping his gut. “Just calling it how it is, Harry. Though I will redact my claim if you prove me wrong by climbing up first.” She jerked her chin at the ladder that was positioned on the side of the hut. 

Harry glanced around. There was no one on the ferry but them, the captain, and of course the two hidden guards that followed Ginny around everywhere (which he hadn’t even known about until they’d arrived at the port in Dover, they were  _ that  _ good). Once he confirmed that the coast was clear, he put his foot on the bottom rung and started climbing. He heard Ginny give out a quiet cheer as he reached the top. 

The first thing Harry noticed was how right Ginny had been. The view from up here was incredible! He could see miles upon miles of the dark ocean, but it was the way the orange sun reflected off the dark water that was so stunning. 

“Was I right, or was I right?” Ginny came up beside him again, standing so close her body heat warmed up his left side. 

He let out an over dramatic sigh. “I hate to admit it, because I’d hate for you to get a big head,” she laughed, “but you were right”

She bumped his hip with hers. “Told you.”

“There’s that big head I was trying to avoid.” 

Her laugh seemed to become all encompassing in the open. Her hand slid into his and she pulled him down to sit on the roof. She pushed back against a pipe that stuck out of the roof, bringing Harry with her. Her eyes on the slowly brightening sky. “I’ve always loved watching the clouds over the ocean. They always look so majestic being the only thing for miles and miles.”

Harry scooted closer to her so the pipe knot stopped pressing into the small of his back. “I’d never thought about it being majestic, but I get now.” 

“There I am being right again.” Ginny murmured.

They fell into silence, both watching the clouds reflect off the water. When Ginny’s head came to rest on Harry’s shoulder, he looked over at her. The soft smile on her lips looked so peaceful and happy. Her eyes had closed and her breathing had steadied to the point where Harry was nearly certain she had falling asleep. 

The idea that she was comfortable enough with him to sleep... It made those butterflies from before rise back up, and his own smile curled his lips. He scooted ever so closer giving her easier access to her new pillow. His head slowly came to rest atop of hers. He could feel his entire body relax as she let out a content sigh and pressed closer to him. Maybe it was for the body heat, but Harry’s heart wanted it to be for  _ so much more _ . He let his eyes close, letting the soothing sounds of the sea crashing against the hull and Ginny’s warmth lull him into sleep. 

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Paris was incredible in the spring, Harry decided as they walked up the Champs-Élysées. The bustling cars, people hopping from shop to shop, and of course the architecture all fascinated Harry. Though London had more or less the same things, there was something so much more magical about observing it in a foreign country. Or maybe it was the company he kept.

Ginny led them from shop to shop, chatting his ear off about anything and everything. While in the chocolate shop she told him the story of how her brother dared her to eat an entire family size bag of Maltesers, which had led to them cleaning her vomit off their mother’s kitchen floor. Then while in a little hat store (where Ginny bought a sun hat as a disguise), she gave a detailed retelling of a joke she once played on her youngest brother that included overcooked spaghetti, a table set for a romantic date, and a gardener's hat. 

It was odd for Harry to think how  _ easy  _ things were between the two of them. Normally it took Harry a few days to truly warm up to someone, but Ginny had broken through his normal inhibitions. She’d pulled him in the first two minutes of meeting, and the more time he spent with her the better she got. The way she kept him guessing and how she could make him confess to things he’d planned to take the grave… Harry honestly considered the theory Ginny was a witch. 

But of course, witches weren’t real. In reality Ginny Weasley was just one of the most fascinating, alluring, captivating people Harry had ever met. If she hadn’t been named one of England's most popular singers, then Harry might have tried to make a move on her (albeit an awkward move). But because of her status Harry was afraid that coming onto Ginny would just seem like a play. He assumed she had blokes lining up in order to merely talk to her, and he didn’t just want to be another pathetic Romeo. 

So instead of kissing her on Pont Des Arts like every cell in body craved, he simply looked over the water at her side. And when that little foam mustache formed on her upper lip he didn’t lean across the table and kiss it away; he handed her a napkin with a cheeky comment. Or every time their fingers brushed while walking, Harry had to resist lacing them. 

But none of those moments tested his self-control as much as now. 

They had joined the hoard of people gathering by the Eiffel Tower once night had set. The lights illuminating the tower had taken Harry’s breath. But it was when Ginny had dragged him over towards the street performer, and pulled him into a tight embrace that had sent him into overdrive. She had her arms wrapped around his neck before he even knew they were going to be dancing.

“Did you know this song was originally written by Ed Sheeran?” Ginny asked as she guided them into a slow swaying. Harry barely heard her words because his mind was so focused on where he should put his hands. He knew where he wanted to put them… but the nagging question of would she want them  _ there _ was entirely different. 

Finally after ten seconds of a vicious inner debate his fingers slowly fell onto her swaying hips. The fabric of her silky blouse felt amazing as they moved together. He glanced down at her and saw the most adorable smirk curling her lips, making his pulse spike to a dangerous level. 

He still couldn’t get over how beautiful she was. The way her hair fell around her shoulders, framing her face. The splattering of freckles that covered every inch of bare skin. And her eyes, Harry could honestly get lost in them. They reminded him of the chocolate river in  _ Charlie and the Chocolate Factory _ , and Harry wouldn’t complain about drowning in them. 

"You know, I’ve never been overly fond of dancing?” Ginny said, pulling Harry out of his chocolate filled fantasies. 

“Really?” Harry asked, thinking of the incredibly  _ sexy  _ moves he’d seen her perform on stage when he’d seen her live. “But don’t you dance at your shows?”

Ginny shrugged, her fingernails scratching gentle at the back of his neck, making his entire body relax. “That’s what the boss wants, and he says it’s what the people want, but the real Ginny…” She gave him a shy smile. “The real Ginny prefers something more this speed.” 

She moved impossibly closer, her head coming to rest on his chest. Harry’s heart seemed to be trying to beat straight out his chest in order to reach her. He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head, continuing to sway to the leisurely soothing tune. “Me too, Gin. Me too.”

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

“What do you mean you only have one room available?” Ginny asked the hotel clerk.

The pudgy man ran a hand across the back of his neck, wiping quite a lot of sweat as he went. “ _ Mademoiselle _ , I must apologize for our current state.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “You’ve said that already. But what I don’t understand is why.”

“There is a convention happening here in Paris. Every hotel is reserved just as much as we are.”

“We’ll take the one room then.” Harry was surprised when his voice interrupted the hotel concierge’s apologies. Ginny’s head whipped to look at him, her shock unmistakable.

“You sure?” Ginny asked. 

Inside his head thousands of arguments against the idea shouted, but instead of listening to them he nodded. “Yeah.”

Ginny beamed at him before turning back to the concierge. “Sounds like we’ll take that last room, Jean”

Jean typed on his computer rapidly. “ _ Magnifique _ ! Just give me a moment and I’ll have two keys ready for you.” 

“Thank you.” 

Harry barely heard the sounds of the clacking keyboard or the small talk between Ginny and the clerk. No, rather his head was full of so many different visions that Harry wouldn’t have even noticed if an elephant wandered in the lobby. Visions of him and Ginny walking into a elegant bedroom where they would wonder around… then Ginny would suggest maybe a shower… and suddenly she calling him in —

“Harry?” Ginny patted his arm, drawing him out of his reverie. “You good?” He nodded, not trusting himself to speak. She handed him a keycard. “We’re on the fifth floor.” 

They walked side by side towards the lifts, each holding bags from their day of shopping (neither having packed anything bought basic necessities for the night). Harry pressed the call button, not leaving his spot beside Ginny. Her hand was so close to his, all he needed to do was reach his pinky slightly to the left and —

_ Ding _

Before Harry could give into the urge that had been strong since the moment he’d met Ginny the door opened releasing a small family. Ginny moved to the left to allow the family exit, and Harry was forced to step to the right. He entered behind Ginny, watching her select their floor. 

There was silence between them, not uncomfortable, but charged like there were things unspoken between them. 

“So,” Ginny turned towards him, her smile so easy and warm it made his stomach flutter with the best kind of butterflies. “How does Paris rank on your chart of places?”

Harry stared at her, his heart beating a loud tempo against his chest. Even in the faint of the hotel lift, she was stunning. “Honestly, it’s become one of my favorite places.” 

She beamed at him. “Really?! What was your favorite part?”

_ You _ , his mind screamed. Ginny was the most incredible piece of art, the most beautiful view, the  _ pièce de résistance _ that he could never get enough of. But he couldn’t say that. Not only was it horrible cheesy, it was also so embarrassing to say to someone… especially someone like Ginny Weasley. 

But really she had become one of his favorites in the last twenty-four hours. One of his favorite people to talk to, joke with, travel with, look at… you name it, Ginny Weasley was the best of the best.

Thankfully, before Harry could spill all his mushy guts, the lift doors dinged open revealing their corridor. Harry gestured towards the carpeted hall. “Ladies first.” 

Ginny gave a mock curtsy. “Such a gentleman.” Then she was leading the way towards the room. Harry followed a few steps behind her, trying to ignore the way her hips swayed perfectly with each step or how amazing her bum looked in those jeans. Ginny reached the door first, swiping the key with ease before swinging the door open wide. 

Harry’s first word that jumped into Harry’s mind was sophisticated. The walls were trimmed with a gold that brightened from the lights Ginny flicked on. It wasn’t an overly large room, just the basic things all hotels provided (television, closet, safe, toilet, and bed), but everything looked elegant and comfortable. It made Harry think of the photos he’d seen of kings and queen’s rooms. His eyes focused on the bed. There was only one… one, albeit large, bed. 

Logically Harry had known the moment they were sharing a room that there would only be one bed, but his mind hadn’t thought of all the ramifications one bed meant. 

Ginny however didn’t seem perturbed by the lack of sleeping accommodations. She settled in, placing her bags on the floor at the foot of the  _ one _ bed. Her trainers were next, landing three meters apart from each other. She jumped up onto the poofy mattress making her bounce. She laughed. 

_ That laugh _ … how could a laugh make his whole body turn to jelly? It was like a hurricane, all happening so suddenly, sending him spinning out of control. But for some reason, he didn’t care where he landed. Hurricane Ginny could take him anywhere and he’d be okay with it. He couldn’t call it love - wouldn’t call it love, but whatever this was… Harry had no desire to ever see it end. 

“Harry?” Ginny was smiling at him from the bed. She had posed herself so she lay at the foot of the mattress, her body horizontal to the headboard, her head resting on her arm. “I think this needs to be said…” She lowered her voice. “Draw me like one of your french girls.” 

He snorted. “Seriously?” 

She held his gaze, her come-hither expression sending his pulse into overdrive.  _ Wait, was she serious? Did she actually… did she feel…  _ Harry’s mind was running a mile a minute turning over every possible meaning and outcome. But his feet didn’t seem to have the same qualms. He had already taken two steps forward before his head could complete a single argument. 

There was a fire in her eyes that made his entire body feel hot, but her smile… it was mischievous. He stopped mid-step. That impish grin… it was a joke!  _ Of course she wasn’t serious! _ Why he’d ever been foolish enough to think she wanted him like that… 

He quickly came up with a ploy. Creating a square between his two hands, Harry side-stepped around looking through his make-shift lens. “Hmmm, the lighting in this room would be ideal, much better then in the hull of a ship or something.”

Ginny laughed. “Oh, are you saying you need pristine lighting? You can’t just use your imagination?” 

“I highly doubt my imagination would come close to the truth.” He smiled at her, trying to calm his supid treacherous heart that was beating way too fast over a joke between friends. It was the same deceptive heart that imagined a faint blush tinging Ginny’s cheeks. He needed get his head on straight before he did or said something stupid. He cleared his throat. “So, how do you think the food service is in this place?”

She sat up, his asinine heart lying to him as he saw disappointment in her eyes. “I mean it is a five star hotel, so I’m guessing pretty good. You hungry?”

He shook his head. “Just thinking about breakfast. It’s my favorite meal of the day.” 

The smile she gave him…  _ fuck, _ he was certain that smile would be the last thing that crossed his mind before he died. “Mine too!” She stretched across the mattress on her stomach, grabbing the menu listing from the bedside table. “Looks like they have quite a few options, freshly made croissants already sound good.” 

She rolled around, scooting so her back was up against the headboard. “I hope you don’t plan on getting up early, Potter, because I am  _ not _ a morning person.”

Harry held his hands up in defense. “You won’t hear a peep out of me before eight.”

Ginny groaned, dragging her hands down her face. “Eight? Really? I live a life of night and you want me up by eight?” 

“I’ll make sure to wake you the  _ best  _ way possible.” The second the words left his mouth, Harry could feel the heat rising up to his cheeks. The implication of what he just said… What the fuck was he thinking! Right, he hadn’t been thinking because it was just so easy for him to talk with Ginny that things like  _ that _ slip out. How the fuck —

Ginny snorted, but a coquettish curled her lips. “Let’s hope you live up to that promise.” She slid off the mattress, grabbing one of her shopping bags. “I’m gonna hop into the shower first, if you don’t mind.”

“Uh — no.” Harry had to shake his mind back into action. “Go right ahead.” 

She walked towards the loo, but stopped in front of him. “You never asked me what was my favorite part of Paris.” 

His mind, which had only started to recover from his internal diatribe, lost all capability when the scent of lavender filled his nostrils. Was it her perfume? Whatever it was, it was intoxicating in the best way. “Er — what was your favorite part of Paris?”

With a sultry grin on her lips, she rose to her tiptoes to place her mouth right beside his ear. Goosepimples erupted down the back of his neck as she said, “Getting to dance with  _ you _ .” 

Then she was gone with a quick kiss to his cheek, the door to the loo clicking shut before Harry remembered to breath. He eased down onto the corner of the mattress trying to restart his brain. He could hear the shower running in the distance, but his mind could only focus on one thing.  _ Ginny _ . 

His mind went in every direction. Had she meant  _ that _ like he imagined? Or was he playing it up? What he needed to do was separate himself from the scene, like he was trained for at the academy. He was a MET detective for fucks sake, he knew how to compartmentalize… or at least he did with everything that didn’t include Ginny Weasley. 

Taking a deep breath he thought back on their day. The way he felt with her, the cheeky comments she said, how natural it had felt to dance with her... Every part of Harry wanted to go into that shower, push her up against the tiles and kiss her until neither of them could breath. 

He started to rise, ready to confess everything to her, but Ginny was already in front of him. How she’d gotten there without him noticing, Harry would never know… and he’d never ask because all words left his head as he took the sight of Ginny Weasley in a towel. 

“Should still be enough hot water for you to take a turn.” She smiled at him, her damp hair falling around her face. Her grin faded as she took him in. “You alright, Harry?”

“I — I —” He swallowed hard, hoping to regain some dignity. “I have to tell you something.” 

Ginny’s brow crinkled as she sat beside him, not seeming to care that the duvet was getting damp from her towel. She took his hand in hers, sending electricity from his fingers to his toes. “What is it?”

Harry’s heart pounded so hard against his chest he was certain she should have been able to hear it’s rapid thudding. He took a deep breath, pulling all the courage he could muster. “You asked me my favorite part of Paris.”

She nodded, still confused. “I did.”

“Well, I —” He licked his suddenly dry lips. “You.”

“What?” She squeezed his hand, clearly thinking he was losing his mind. 

Harry tried again. “You. You are my favorite part of Paris.” 

Her hand tightened on his again. Her brown eyes held him in a strong gaze, that intense fiery look coming back to light her eyes. “Do you mean that?” 

His breath was coming in shallow inhales, his chest constricting under the pressure, but he nodded not breaking eye contact. He hoped she could see all the truth in his eyes. How it wasn’t just because she was famous, but because of how much he loved her sense of humor, wit, and everything else about her. 

They stared at each other for a long minute, neither breaking their stalemate. Then Ginny was on his lap, straddling him. Her hands cupping his cheeks. Harry’s hands naturally went to her hips, making sure she was steady. Her forehead came to rest on his, that fiery stare becoming more intense with each passing second. 

It was Harry who took the final step. He closed the small gap between their lips. His fingers dug into the damp cloth of the towel, reveling in the softness of her lips. 

Ginny’s hands slid down his neck, to his shoulders as she tilted her head to give them better access to each other. Harry parted his mouth with a satisfied sigh when her tongue ran against his lower lip. Ginny used her weight to push him so he lay on his back, her body covering his.

Harry’s hands snuck up from her hips to caress all the way up her sides. The feeling of her on top of him, his hands running along her perfect curves, and the way her lips had just gone from his to focusing on his neck…. His entire body felt ready to explode. 

“ _ Gin _ .” His voice was rough as he tried to get her attention. “Ginny.”

She pulled away from his neck after a final nip. With a final peck at his lips she sat up, still straddling his stomach.“Yeah?” 

He sat up so they were at eye level. “You know —” His words turned into a groan as her hands moved to thread through his hair. 

“Know what?” Ginny asked innocently, her grin spreading ear to ear. 

Harry closed his eyes, loving the feeling of her nails massaging his head. “You know I — I really like you, right?”

Ginny didn’t say anything for a moment, making Harry’s eyes snap open. She was still smiling at him, her eyes showing her understanding. Rathering than verbaling answering, she leaned down, pushing him back down with her, curtaining them in a room of red. When her lips were on his again, somehow Harry knew she understood. 

After a moment, Ginny pulled back far enough that their eyes were locked again. “What are your plans for this weekend?” 

“This... weekend?” Harry’s mind couldn’t catch up. “Nothing. Why?” 

She pressed another mind-altering kiss to his lips. “Because I’m going to cook you dinner at my flat in London.” 

“Oh?” 

“Yup.” Ginny popped the P. “Because I want to spend as much time with you as possible before I go to America for my three months. Does that work for you?”

Harry looked into her beautifully open expression, seeing her desire for him. He slid his hands up her back, digging his palms into her bare shoulders before flipping them so he was atop of her. Leaning down he pressed a hot, hard kiss to her lips. “Just try and stop me.” 


End file.
